Golden Star
by Fred-Weasley-Isn't-Dead
Summary: From three to eighty-six, watch this couple fall in love.


The girl is three. So is the boy. They're playing in the sandbox at the park, trying and failing to make a sand stack. The boy has a cute little strip of hair in the center of his head and the girl is wearing a pink argyle skirt. They're talking in clipped, uncompleted sentences and babbling back and forth but they both seem to understand the other completely. They laugh as they get their hands all sandy and their legs are outstretched, their feet touching as they work between their legs. They never do take their eyes off each other.

* * *

><p>They're six now, still playing at the park. They've upgraded to the sandbox, he's hanging upside down while she is perched on top, her legs swinging. He's trying to be cute and make her blush and smile. She just shakes her head and giggles. After a while he gets dizzy and jumps off, landing solidly on his feet. He heads for a blonde girl, who was spinning in circles with her arms out. He takes her hand and leads her back to the jungle gym. The brunette sitting atop it frowns at her sight but jumps down to greet her anyway. The other smiles dimwittedly and begins to talk about her new kitten, Charity. The boy cuts her off by whispering in her ear. She nods and he drops her hand before taking the hand of the brunette, squeezing a bit. She was confused, to say the least, but squeezes back none the less. The blonde stands under the blue monkey bars and "<em>pronounces them husband and wife<em>". He smiles, gives the brunette a plastic ring, a little too big for her finger, and hugs her before pressing a quick kiss on her lips. She smiles, blushes and thanks the girl, who skips off. The boy beams at his "_wife_" and watches longingly when her parents say it's time to go. She turns over her shoulders and uses the hand that isn't being held to wave. He waves back, smiling.

* * *

><p>They're ten and she's short, unable to reach the bell on the top of the jungle gym. He smirks and teases her, being able to reach it himself. She just puts her hands on her hips and pouts at him with her lower lip jutted out and her big brown eyes pleading. He sighs and lifts her up as much as he could. She wasn't heavy but he wasn't strong. She strains until she can reach the bell and rings it, beaming. Her smile brings one to his face and when he sees her wearing the plastic on her pinky finger, having outgrown it on her ring finger, he smiles even more. She hugs him when he lets her down. He hugs back before stepping away and pulling her to the tic-tact-toe board, the one with the yellow rotating blocks. She's "<em>O<em>", he's "_X"_. He lets her win.

* * *

><p>They're fourteen now and freshman in high school. She still hasn't outgrown her plaid skirts and his hair is still in that strip of hair on his head but things are different. He's cool now and she's not. Their friendship has survived middle school but when he had tried out for football and made the team, he made fast friends with a dim boy who towered over her and another boy who hated her parents the minute they stepped into freshman orientation. They were picking on an elfin-faced boy, who was shrinking into himself. She jumped off the swing she was perched on, crosses her arms and storms over to help the bullied kid, who she recognizes from Spanish class. When the boys sneer at her, she whirls on her heal and glares them, her harsh words cutting them down to size. They laugh at her and call her a freak. The boy with the strip of hair is the last to join in, laughing hesitantly. Her eyes flash and she grabs the ring from where it rests on her neck on a chain. She yanks it off and throws it to the ground, crushing it. She glances up at him and is certain she sees pain gleam in his eyes but it was gone just as fast as it appeared. The three boys lumber away and the one being picked on thanks her. She nods and walks home. The ring was payback for the slushies.<p>

* * *

><p>He pushes her on the merry-go-round as she lies on her back on a green panel of metal. She looks up at the stars as she spins, waiting for him to lie down next to her. When he finally has a steady pace going, he jumps on and makes it wobble. She curls up into his side and rests her head on his chest. He smiles and inhales the citrus scent of her hair as she closes her eyes and breaths deeply, the cool night air dancing on her arms and legs. Even when the merry-go-round slows to a stop, he still holds her close to him. He never wants to let her go and she never wants to leave but her destiny is calling. It's the last night of summer and they graduated from McKinley in June. The parties had been a blast with a pregnancy scare or two. The trip to Bermuda had been fun but the end was staring her in the face. She was leaving for Julliard in the morning and he was flying out to California, having been accepted to UCLA. It was time for them to go their separate ways.<p>

* * *

><p>They just graduated from college having a few breakups while they were apart. She accused him of cheating at a party; he accused her of sleeping with her professor. They both clearly missed each other. He doesn't even go to any parties. He flies right to New York to see her. She thought they were meeting up in Lima so when he stepped out of the cab instead of their elfin-faced friend, she nearly jumps him with surprise. He has jet lag but he couldn't care less. She was in his arms and that was all that matters.<p>

* * *

><p>This time it's real. Twenty years later and they're being married for real. The blonde girl is in the audience and so is their elfin-featured friend. They both have watery eyes along with fifty-seven other people. After the slide the rings onto the other's finger, he lifts her hair and clasps a necklace around her neck. On the end is a haphazardly hot-glued plastic ring. She smiles at him and a tear streaks down her cheek. They're announced husband and wife. He crushes the glass. The crowd cheers, "<span>Mazel tov!<span>" They kiss.

* * *

><p>Their thirteen year old twins are arguing over a silly thing. Their son is trying to force his twin sister into playing a new Xbox game. She frowns in disagreement. Their eight year old son, who they were fairly certain was gay, is complaining about the amount of tacky clothes their house held. Their gay friend, the one bullied back in freshman year, had taken on the role of personal shopper for the family and nearly croaked when he heard that. Their family may not have been perfect but oddly enough, the former perfectionist was okay with that.<p>

* * *

><p>The twins are graduating from college and their seventeen year old son had just driven down from school, having broken about three laws to get there on time. It was lucky he didn't get pulled over. They welcome their son, who had dragged along his boyfriend, to sit in the seats they reserved. With proud smiles and tears in their eyes, they watch as the twins receive their diplomas.<p>

* * *

><p>They're gray and aged, wrinkles covering their faces. The once Broadway star wanted to age gracefully, scorning those who got injections and hair dye. They were grandparents. The twins had married and their son married his high school boyfriend, adopting a gurgling baby girl. Their house was empty but that doesn't mean silent. He still liked to surprise her with some dancing. They didn't bicker like they used to but every couple has its quarrels. He still likes to make her blush and she is just as bossy as ever, but they are good together.<p>

* * *

><p>A bell tolls somewhere in the distance and crows call to each other and the sky clouds over, graying the light. He's leaning on a cane and limping. He hobbles over to her and bends in front of her, reaching in his pocket. He extracts the necklace, which had somehow survived since they got married. He clasps it around the cold tombstone and presses his lips to the granite. It was the one year anniversary of her death and the sixtieth anniversary of their marriage. He sighs and runs his hand along the side of her tombstone and traces her name, "<em>Rachel Barbara Puckerman." <em>He looks at her name with longing, as though it could bring her back to life. He traces the quote next. "_Whenever a fake star dies, a real one is born." _It was her personal quote and her favorite. He looked up at the sky, where the clouds had disappeared and a single yellow star was shining brightly. It almost looked golden. He laughs wryly, his breath visible. He smiles and a single tear slips out of his eye.

"I love you, Rachel."


End file.
